Nobody
by kingofthenobodies
Summary: The story of Roxas, how he came to join Organization XIII, and the forgotten battles that changed the course of worlds.


Alright, before we get this story started I want to make something clear: I wrote this a LONG time ago, waaaaaaay before 358/2 days came out. So throw all of those plot lines out the window, because this was meant to be MY version of Roxas' past. But I'm still trying to stick as close to the details of KH I and II as possible. I apologize in advance for the Roxas angst, but I felt that it was part of his character at this point in his life. I'm not an angst fan, so I kept it to a minimum.

I stumbled across this story the other day (with a detailed outline for future chapters, no less) and I thought 'HOLY crap, I forgot about this thing!'. So, for your reading pleasure, here it is all nice and polished. Sort of. At any rate, let me know what you think of this, and constructive criticism is always appreciated.

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NOBODY

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The brightly glowing sun began to sink lower towards the horizon, and he uncaringly raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare. They were hollow, empty eyes that contained no warmth despite their brilliant shade of blue, and no trace of contentment at seeing the magnificent vista before him as it was painted over with the bright pastels of sunset. He showed no sign of either noticing or caring.

The town below him seemed to glow with the setting sun, from the numerous buildings clustered haphazardly together to the trains that ran between them on their winding tracks that, from where he was, looked like thin threads of black wire winding through and around the city. It was easy to see how the town had acquired such a name as 'Twilight Town'.

The eyes blinked and he slowly reclined back, settling into the warm stone of the clock tower that was his current resting place. He knew nobody would notice him up here; after all, they never had before.

His thoughts began to drift, and he began to think about the ice cream he had seen some of the other kids his age eating, and how good it would taste right about now…perhaps, some day, he would dare to venture into the city and buy some…

_**BONG!!...BONG!!...BONG!!...BONG!!...BONG!!...BONG!!**_

The sudden peal of the clock tower bells behind him made him jump, as they always did, snapping him out of his daydreaming. His eyes were suddenly bright with a newfound excitement, and he quickly shifted back to an upright position, throwing his hand up once again to ward off the sun as he eagerly surveyed the streets below. It was six, and they always came through the town plaza at that time…

There! They finally came into his sight and he felt his spirits rise in spite of himself. There were three of them, all teenagers like him, walking closely together across the wide expanse of cobblestone walkways that made up the plaza, free of any semblance of worry. The blonde boy in the center of the trio was waving his hands in an elaborate gesture, and his two companions were laughing his he related his latest story or joke of some kind.

From his perch on the clock tower, he allowed himself a brief smile as he watched them walking together, and he wondered what it would be like to laugh alongside them…

The other boy, on the right side of the storyteller, was shorter and, he couldn't help but think, a little bit large. The other was a girl, a cute brunette in a brightly colored tank top. In the time he had been observing the group, he had noticed that she seemed to be the one who kept order among the other two.

_She acts exactly like __her__…_he thought to himself with a laugh.

And then the smile faded, replaced by a look of confusion. Why had he thought that? Where had that come from? Who was 'her'?

His eyes squeezed shut, and he put his head in his hands, rubbing his forehead as if trying to bring the memory back. But it was no use. For a moment he had seen the image of a girls face briefly flash through his mind. Only it was another girl and another place, neither of which he recognized.

Yet another unexplained vision. Or was it a memory? A memory of some distant life, or maybe it was even of _his _former life…

His head sank deeper into his hands, and an agonized groan escaped from between clenched fingers, "Who am I?"

After a moment he finally looked up again, hoping to find relief in the sight of his 'friends'. But they were gone; they had already left the plaza with their ice cream, and that meant they would be coming to the clock tower before long…

He slowly arose, making his way to the door that led to the long, spiraling staircase down the tower. As his fingers closed around the door handle, he hesitated. What if he were to go down to them, or wait for them here? What would happen if he were to break his cold silence with the world? Would they accept him?

A sudden vision flashed in his mind, an image of the four of them sitting atop the clock tower together. The vision tantalized his senses, teasing his mind with its charm. He could see it so clearly; they would all eat their ice cream together, as he always envisioned true friends doing. He would tell a joke of his own, and they would all laugh along with him as all of his worries melted along with the ice cream and fled with the sun…

And then, the fragile vision shattered and fell away, leaving a cold reality behind. They would never accept him. No matter how much he admired them, how ardently he longed to _be_ them, be would always be nothing. His hand turned the door handle with a loud _clack_, and he slowly stepped through the threshold into darkness.

_Why would any of them care about me anyway?_ He thought to himself as the door creaked ponderously shut behind him. _How could anybody possibly care about half a person?_


End file.
